Mortalis Minotaurus: or The Death Of a Monster
by Angel-with-a-Flower
Summary: Harry Dresden Wizard. Lost items found. Paranormal Investigations. Consulting. Advice. Reasonable Rates. No Love Potions, Endless Purses, or Other Entertainment. That's what it says on the card. But what about teacher? [Rated T for general SciFi etc...]
1. Chapter 1

Title: Mortalis Minotaurus: or; The Death Of a Monster

Authors: Angel-with-a-Flower

Series: The Dresden Files

A/N: I don't own any of Jim Butcher's character (no matter how much I reeeeeeeeeeeeeeally want Bob 3)...Celeste/Melissa is all I own...so please don't sue and/or kill us. Thanks! Oh, and this is all told from Dresden's point of view, much like the books or the TV series' narrations.

For admin: This is placed under television shows instead of novels because, despite the fact that it is mostly based in the book series, Bob is more the Terrence Mann portrayal.

* * *

Life is life. We are born, we live, we hurt, we laugh a little, and then we die. And that is the end of it. Our lives are nothing more than stories told by experiences and dictated by our choices. 

At least, that was the view of a rather surly friend of mine. Myself, I rather prefer to think that the time we spend up and around are a little more than some brief memories and snap decisions.

Of course, other believe that life is just a part of that whole "River of Time" thing and keeps repeating itself until the end of All Things. But, really, who has the energy to that?

"Burned once more." I scowled over my shoulder, twisting around part way to glare at the white haired man. He stood behind me, hands clasped behind his back, his traditional suit neat as always. "You know, cooking and brewing up certain spells are almost identical."

"Not now, Bob..." I muttered and grumbled at him, snapping at the stove and trying to turn the oven off. Stupid gas stove...

"So why is it that you can brew up a decent pick-me-up, but you can't manage to heat up a frozen, _store_ bought waffle?" Bob continued on, ignoring my bad mood. "Honestly..."

"Honestly, Bob?" I turned, pointing the spatula at him in a threating gesture and waved it around. "Shut up. Right now." Bob tilted his head, giving me a disinterested expression, and opened his mouth to get in the last word, until the bell on the front door jingled. We both exchanged looks and he nodded, stepping backwards through my kitchen's wall. Oh, right, did I mention that Bob was a ghost? No? Long story. Short side of it; Bob was a wizard, who did some pretty misguided things, that led him to being cursed, killed, and left to spend all eternity trapped in his own skull. Good news, he has a trove of knowledge that almost always comes in handy on just about anything. Bad news is...well...he isn't the most fun roommate I could have picked. But I owe him a few, plus he's a good guy, so I keep him around.

A voice called out for me, and I dumped the burned pan in the sink with a loud clatter.

"Yah, yah, I'm coming already..." I sighed, and added a new flat cooking pan to my mental shopping list. That would be the third one in about as many months, a factoid that I'm sure Bob would bring up as soon as I got back from the store. But, before he can get snarky over a new bit of kitchenware, I'd have to get some money first.

"Oh, hey, Murphy. Well, you look...um..." I tilted my head to the side, taking in the police officer's appearance. "Is it windy today?" I asked, smiling at her. She shot me a dark look and ran a hand through her rich, dark brown hair. Karrin Murphy, although she rather go by Connie for some reason or another, was one of the leading Special Investigator for the local Chicago Police. She also happened to be one of my main sources for pay, since she partially believed that the sign painted on my door was for real.

Right, did I happen to mention what I did for a living? Harry Dresden, wizard. My business card read off some of the storefront propaganda; "Lost items found. Paranormal Investigations. Consulting. Advice. Reasonable Rates. No Love Potions, Endless Purses, or Other Entertainment". Mostly, it was the little things people came in for, the finding lost items or cheating husbands. However, Connie had seen enough of the real weird stuff and would give me a call when a case with those MO's popped up.

"Funny, Dresden." She shot back, straitening her jacket and smoothing the twists out of her pantsuit. She looked like she had gone through a wind tunnel or something, her hair in tangles and her clothes twisted about. "As a matter of fact, I have something weird for you." I glanced back over at her, interested now. She shook her head, as if ready to dismiss the event before she told me. Tempted as I was to ask, I knew that if I let her, she'd get around to telling me. "Some kid. It was...just...some kid. She was running down the street, like she was trying to get away from something. She looked scared, and I figured it was a botched shoplifting job, so I ran after her. She turned down an alley, and then all of a sudden..." She waved her hand vaguely, and faltered for the right words. "There was this huge gust of wind. Probably just a pressure front or some freak shift in the weather." Connie shrugged and looked away, as if she was unwilling to believe whatever she really saw, then continued. "Anyways, when it lifted, the kid was gone. I know this isn't huge, but...maybe you want to check it out?"

"Over a weird wind and a shoplifter?" I asked, leaning against an old wooden desk, and crossed my arms. "Come on, Murphy, what's the real reason?" She looked away from my stare, unwilling to meet my glance. That was probably wise of her, since staring directly into a wizard's eyes would initiate a Soul Stare, and no one really wants that. But she didn't know that. No, she just didn't want to admit something. And I knew that if I waited long enough, she'd spill it. Again.

"The kid looked like a runaway, ok? I just...I don't know." She shook her head, spreading her hands, and then slapping them against her legs. "Just...keep your eyes open, alright? Just...in case."

I smiled to myself. Murphy was more worried about a possible homeless kid than the sudden wind that just so _magically_ appeared to distract her long enough for the kid to disappear.

It was almost sweet. Course I wasn't dumb enough to tell her that. Not if I wanted to solve this or get paid. Ever again.

"Right. So, big wind, disappearing kid." I nodded my head, ducking away to hide the smile that threatened to creep across my face. That wouldn't be good for pay either. "Any thoughts about a little cash, Murph? Because, and I hate to say this, its going to be bad for business if I'm crawling all across Chicago looking for a kid while others with a little more spending leeway need me."

"Fifty bucks an day." She agreed, and continued on through my groaning protests. "And don't go out of your way to not stack up any more clientele, Harry. This is a 'just in case you see her' thing."

"Right, right, fine." I sighed. It wouldn't pay the rent, but it would give me a little in-pocket cash. "Ok, I'll keep my eyes open and if I find this kid...then what?" Connie shrugged and I shook my head. "Drop her off down at the station, or what?"

"Just call me..." She glanced at my desk's rotary phone. "Assuming that thing works."

"It works fine." I interjected. "...most of the time, anyways. So, give me some details here, what am I suppose to be looking for in the crowds?"

"Young teen. Five seven, five eight, about one-twelve, long honey colored hair and a gaunt frame. She looked pretty hungry, Harry, so I'd check out some of the less 'guarded' stores." She turned to go, then paused with her hand on the doorknob. "Um...I'm not sure, but for a moment, it looked like she had violet eyes."

"Violet eyes?" I echoed, eyebrow cocked. "You mean, like the iris was purple instead of blue or brown or whatever, that kind of violet eyes?" Connie shrugged once more, her expression reading as dubiously as my own probably did, and then left. Great.

I shook my head, glancing once more at the door she just left though, reading the backwards, murky gold letters that spelled out my name on its window, and let all the information Murphy gave me sink in.

"Bob? You heard all of that?" I asked the empty room, and within seconds, he reappeared in a swirl of red-and-black smoke, his image reforming until he was whole again.

"The girl, the wind, the disappearance?" He recapped, nodding his head once. "Mm...yes, that does sound odd."

"You're thinking...what? New wizard in town?"

"Or perhaps new, period. This girl...the cop said she was no more than a child? Then perhaps her powers are just now emerging. They can manifest in a number of ways, mostly linked with emotional or energy spikes." He sighed, tilting his head to one side. "You're going to go and find her, aren't you?"

"Of course." I glanced at him from the side, stretching my hand out for my hockey stick-staff, and it slid from one side of the room to my hand in seconds. "A sudden burst of wind magic? The Council will be all up in my face about this...and I want to have some idea what is going on before that."

"Oh, this is hardly about the Council." Bob chuckled. "This is Harry Dresden on another one of his Quixotic crusade, rushing about to save the damsel in distress."

"Right. Well, this 'damsel' is blowing around Chicago," I replied, grabbing my coat. Never leave home without it. Bob shot a deadpan glare at my pun and I glanced back, wide-eyed in pretend innocence. "Literally. And unless I'm mistaken, that's a bit dangerous, right, Bob?"

"Yes. Well," He paused, thinking on it. "Somewhat dangerous."

"Some what?" I echoed, stepping closer. "Bob?"

"Actually, only if she was threatened." He elaborated on, drawing forward and stepping though my desk to the other side of the room. "It is possible that the only reason that the wind was manifested in the first place was a feeling of panic, a threat to her life..."

"What? You mean like being chased down an alley by a cop?" I smirked, and walked to the door, keys in hand. "Right, so, go look at the alley and see if I can sniff anything out. Crystal, keys, direction..." I turned back for a moment. "Bob, could this be bad? Like, bad bad?"

"Well..." Bob hesitated. "If, and this is a possibility, Harry, if she isn't just beginning...if she is learning under someone...and they just happen to be teaching a few of the wrong things..."

"Right." I nodded, frowning. "That was what I was afraid of." Giving him a sarcastic and weary smile, I left, shutting the door behind me.


	2. Chapter 2

So, Chicago. It's a big city. And it only gets bigger when you're looking for someone. But when you're looking for a certain someone with a knack for doing a little magic, well then, the list gets a little bit smaller.

* * *

The alleyway is just as I imagined it; dirty, smelly, and cramped. I crouched down against a wall (well, not too against it, if you know what I mean) and dug into my pocket. Sliding out a small bundle, I glanced around, and then unwrapped it. My crystal. Quartz, about an inch and a half long, tied to a leather lead, and has never failed me. Unwinding the leather rope tied to it, I let it dangle down and hover over the ground, twitching slightly. It spun one way, then another, and then glowed. Frowning, I stared at it as it glowed a dull green-blue. Glowing was not good. Glowing meant magic. And magic meant that whoever did this was definitely a wizard.

Sighing, I stood up again and walked a few steps further down the alley. The glow got brighter, shining an aqua green, and my frown deepened. Suddenly, the glow was tainted with a purple edging to it.

Purple. Purple was magic, but not used, like the aura that hangs around a wizard. Which made this thing a whole lot worse. It had to be one powerful wizard to give off an aura that could almost overpower the magic's color. Which only left a handful of people.

* * *

"The High Council, Harry? Are you sure?" Bob asked. I set my crystal down my desk. After taking another lap up and down the alleyway, I returned back home to gather my thoughts and bounce a few off Bob. "For them to be involved already..."

The High Council. It's a sort of police for the magical realm. They are a team of high power wizards who patrol both of the worlds and keep the peace. Except they're brand of "justice" is a bit unconventional for most people. They tend to point a finger, say "guilty", and then lop someone's head off. Real unconventional, I would say, especially if the one they are after is you.

"Yah, I know, Bob. That means that whoever this kid is, she is in a world of trouble." I shook my head. "But there's no doubt about it. The crystal turned purple, Bob. Overwhelmed the green completely and spun out of control. I guessing it was Morgan and his crew, and then after the spell, they took off in their typical disappearing fashion."

"So, if they got the girl," Bob concluded for me. "Then they wont be coming back here for you. So if they do..."

"Then the kid got away and is on the run." I agreed. "Question is, why did they jump on her immediately? Were they chasing her beforehand?"

"Perhaps." Bob shrugged, noncommittal. I glanced over at him, an eyebrow raised. "There are other reasons why they would be following her, aside from the abuse of magic, Harry."

"What else, other than the laws?" I asked, slumping down into my old, orange winged-back chair. "I mean, that's why they keep coming to check up on me, right?" Bob nodded, distracted. "Bob?"

"Mm. Misuse of power, breaking one of the laws, being born into the wrong family..."

"Wait, being born?" I interrupted, holding up my hand. "That's a crime that the Council will kill you over?"

"Well, think about it, Harry. Certain families come with the... the pleasure of being judged by what your ancestors have made of themselves..." He tilted his head towards me, tucking his chin with an expression of a secret thought. "Or the pain." I sat there, mulling it over.

"Is the Council really that shallow?" I asked after a moment.

"Well, Harry, its not exclusive to the Council." Bob chuckled, most likely at the fact that I wasn't seeing his point immediately. "Think about it. When you hear the name 'Kennedy', whom do you think of first?"

"JFK, of course." I shrugged. Bob nodded, walking past me as he spoke.

"Right. And why is that?" He paused, long enough to look down over at me. I shrugged again, gesturing my hand for him to keep going. Man, this was starting to feel like we were back in his class, back when I was a kid. Not exactly the wildest time of my life. "Because, Harry, he was the one who made the most impact on the world. Positive or negative impacts will remain linked to a name, staining it for the generations to follow." He sighed, shifting his shoulders as if to stretch out a kink in his neck. Ghosts don't get kinks in their necks. That means something in particular was bothering him. _But what_, I wondered. Bob continued on. "Minor things would add on influence to the world's view on the name, of course, but the largest contributor would be the singular reminder when that name is thought of."

"Oh, ok, right. So, like when someone says 'Dresden' to a Council member...someone like, say, Morgan?" I leaned back, sighing to myself. "The first thing they'd think of would be..."

"The link between you and death of your Uncle, yes." Bob agreed, folding his hands across his chest. "Unfortunate, yes, and that might be something you could try to work against."

"Trying, Bob." I groaned as I stood back up, getting up out of the winged back, tattered chair and stretched. "Why do you think I keep doing this store job instead of just rolling over and playing puppy to the Council?"

"Mmmm...And here I was under the delusion that you were just insufferably stubborn." He replied drolly, but the look he gave me let me know he was joking. Somewhat, anyways. We exchanged slight smiles and I started back to the front of my apartment. "And you are going to do...what, Harry?" Bob asked, passing though each wall and item in his path, keeping up with me as I weaved my way around things.

"Me? I'm going to go out, tell Murphy I took a look at the alley, collect the pay for the day, and then go buy something to eat." I sighed, a tired smile lingering on my face.

"Mm-hmm, I see. And, so, what? Are you going to just happen to take the long way tonight? Which just happens to go by that same district, no doubt." I dropped my head away, hiding my expression of guilt. He could read me like a book, which was quite easy, actually, since I can't lie well for anything. "Harry, you are too easy. A knight, noble to the end, and a dog, who just can't let a bone go unworried."

"Aw, Bob, that's so sweet...we might just have a moment going here." I teased, sarcasm dripping with each syllable, and he rolled his eyes. "More food, less waffles."

"And a new pan." Bob reminded me, stepping forward as I opened the door. "That was your third one in...oh, the same number of months, actually. Congratulations, Harry. You're keeping the pace of destroying things, as usual."

"Shut up, Bob." I groused. "And get in your skull. I don't want anyone dropping by unexpected and seeing you. I've got enough to worry about right now." He nodded stiffly, an expression of distaste lingering as he dissolved into that red-and-black smoke, before wisping away into his skull, which was resting on my desk. The empty eye sockets glowed with a flickering orange flame for a moment, then dulled out into nothing.  
Turned out, I didn't have enough troubles yet. More were just aching to find me and make my day.


	3. Chapter 3

Something I should have mentioned before, this is all un-beta-ed. So, please, if you find something that should be fixed, something that I made a mistake with from the original-Butcher series, please do not hesitate to let me know!! Thanks for putting up with me :)

Also, some minor swearing in this chapter.

* * *

As I walked downtown towards the local police station, my mind couldn't help but mull over what Bob had said. As much as he was an annoying, nagging, smug, insufferable know-it-all...he was right. This was another case that would poke at me, that would bother me until I solved it. This wasn't just some random act of possible lawless magic, it was a lost and most likely frightened girl, and "damsel in distress" is sort of my gig. Unintentionally, of course, since most of the "damsels" would prefer to knock my teeth in if they knew I was thinking of them in such a "delicate" way.

Women these days.

I sighed to myself, rubbing the back of my head absentmindedly, and waited on a street corner to cross. My stomach growled at me, reminding me that I haven't eaten yet today, and that the day was almost done. Food first. I shifted my shoulders beneath the weight of my coat, shaking at the arm sleeves to free up my left hand and reached into my pocket. Empty stomach, empty wallet; I was starting to pick up on an unhealthy theme here. My stomach growled again, and I started down the street, heading in the opposite direction from the grocer's.

First, visit Murphy, and pick up some cash. Then food.

The first precinct of Chicago. A busy place; full of cops hustling off to wherever they're going, phones ringing off the hook constantly, and papers piled sky high to navigate around. If you can find a chair, you're considered lucky. A desk, a miracle. And a particular cop...well...

"Murph—" I said, putting a smile on my face and raising my hands in a friendly, open-palm gesture. She held up a finger (let you guess which one...no, you're wrong, she was clean) and spoke into a phone cradled between her shoulder and her ear. I made an "oh!" face, ducked my head and turned to leave. Right, like I was going to leave before checking to see if she had any more information or my cash. On cue, as I knew she would, Murphy snapped her fingers at me, waited for me to turn around, and then jerked her thumb at an empty chair beside her desk. I feinted innocent confusion, pointing at my chest and then the chair, then back at myself. She glared up at me, "uh-hu"ing the person at the other end of the phone, and wrote something down on paper. I eased myself down into the chair, moving some loose papers around, and waited. If Murphy wanted me to stay, that either meant she had more information for me (possibly a new case) or she really was worried about this kid.

"Harry..." Murphy started in on me the second the phone reached it cradle and I knew that tone. That particular tone spoke volumes of a bad day made worse by being hounded and ground down by superiors who really didn't like her in the first place. Add that to the long hours, harsh shifts, and lack of sleep or decent food; mix together, pour, and you have one pissed off Lt. Karrin Murphy.

"Nothing yet, Murphy." I held up a hand, cutting her off before she could have a chance to unleash some of that unholy cop fury on me. Her dark look increased, so I elaborated quickly. "I went down to the site, took a look around. Not much to go on, but definite on the something..._spooky_...happening." I paused, choosing a replacement word for magic that she'd feel more comfortable with.

"Spooky." Murphy nodded. "Spooky is just about on top for you, isn't it. Spooky is good, right?" Her words were rushed, coming out in bursts, distraction pulling beneath the words. I felt my brow scrunch up, confusion written across my face.

"Murph, something going on?" I asked the obvious question, leaning forward to speak low enough for the surrounding officers to not overhear us. But she shook her head, dismissing the conversation before I got a chance to ask anything more. Standing up, Murphy loomed over me and dug into her pocket. Pulling out a wad of bills, she counted out the total, stuffed them into my hand and told me three icy words,

"Go home Dresden."

Yikes. Well, there's only one thing you can do when a five-odd-foot female police officer says that with a fridged glare while managing to loom over you. Pretty much exactly what she tells you to do. I stood up coolly, not allowing my frustration and confusion to rise to the bait of the smart-ass that hangs in the back of my personality and like to open his big mouth unnecessarily. My frame easily towered hers as I stood, yet her gaze remained as cold as before. I could easily press the matter. I could easily use some of my powers to find out what was bothering her, even without breaking one of the laws. But I couldn't do any of it and keep our friendship or professional relationship easily.

"Ok, ok...I'm gone." I told her, backing down on the battle of wills, holding my hands up in a peaceful gesture. I stepped away from her cluttered cubical, my hands still held up. "But it you need any help...if you need anything...you call me, alright, Murphy?" I tossed the words over my shoulder as I left, heading for the exit.

I stepped out of the precinct feeling worse than I did when I walked in. The sun was starting to set already and I had more questions (and less food) than when I started out this morning. I backtracked, headed over to the grocery section of the block, and made a fast run though of the whole area. Fruits, veggies, bread, stuff in cans—---those usually had a decent shelf life, and with a lack of major electricity in my apartment, they were pretty much essentials. I ducked into the mega-mart grocery store to grab a few colder items; beer, a couple large bags of ice, and some frozen pizzas. What can I say? The pixies that clean my place love pizza. Of course, I'm not supposed to talk about them, or they'll disappear and stop cleaning for good. Good thing most people wouldn't believe me anyways, keeps me from accidentally spilling.

Like I would.

One lap around the block and five grocery bags full later, I'm making my way home from a very long and aggravating afternoon. A small amount of money was left, and hopefully that would be enough for my landlord to let me keep staying in my place while I scrape up some more cash for the rent. And last months rent. And the bill for the hole in the front walk, which wasn't entirely my fault. Making a mental note to call Murphy tomorrow about any new cases, I set several of the bags down long enough for me to dig out my set of house keys and moved to unlock the door.

The sound of feet pounding the pavement reached my ears first. I turned, raising my hand to shield my eyes from the glare of the setting sun, and when my vision cleared, I saw a girl running for her life. Straight towards me.

Shit.

I immediately scooped up the bags and dumped them inside, right beside the door. Grabbing my hockey stick-staff, I stood with a braced stance, and shielded my eyes again from the sun. The kid was fully, flat-out running; her head thrown back, her arms pumping back and forth, her hair (blond, honey blond) blowing back from her face like a flag behind her. Whatever she was running from, she was scared big time.

"Keep the door open!" She shouted at the top of her lungs, the words clipped with lack of breath. "Please, for the love of all things, keep the door open!" I stood on the front step, the door wide open behind me, trying to see what she was running from. Nothing. There was nothing there behind her. The streets were completely clear of people, pets, everything. But as she got closer, I started to feel something. A bad something. Coldness started to settle down in my chest, spreading like an ice crystal, stretching out jagged tentacles across the inside of my chest. Icy cold claws scratched up the insides of my ribs, and I knew there was something unseen here, chasing her, and the panic I could see in her eyes confirmed the same feeling. At the last second, I turned to the side, ushering her past my door, and stepped in behind her, firing up my door's protective wards to their highest level. For a second, it felt like a large...something...smashed against the door, blotting out the world in a hazy darkness, and then it disappeared. I waited another minute, waiting to see if it would try to break through the wards again, and then relaxed the grip on my staff.

I turned to look at the girl. She was sprawled across the floor, having tripped on the door jam at the last possible second, and was curled up against herself, murmuring something as she tried to catch her breath.

"Miss...Hey, miss. Are you alright?" I asked her, crouching down to check and see how badly she had smacked her head into the wooden flooring.

She looked up at me, a very scared look in her wide, violet eyes.


	4. Chapter 4

She looked up at me, a very scared look in her wide, violet eyes. Her mutterings tapered off, and she sat up, shivering. Her mouth (the lips a deadly pale blue) worked on forming words, trying to say something. I stood quickly, grabbing a blanket from the couch and wrapped it around her shoulders. She shied away from me, dipping her shoulders away from my hands as one accidentally brushed up against her neck. Kid was freezing; quite a feat, considering the temperature outside was well into the 90s. Plus she had been running for her life from whatever that thing was, so there was no way that was natural. Which only left me the options that either that thing had somehow infected her with whatever it was, or that she, herself, was unnatural. I really hoped for neither.

"I-is it g-gone?" She managed to croak out, her arms wrapped tightly around one another, her fingers squeezing her arms to the point the skin was past turning white and was on to red, certain to be bruised later.

"Yah, yah, it's gone. It's gone." I repeated, keeping my voice low and made sure I did everything slowly. _She must have been in some sort of shock from whatever that thing did to her_, I reasoned. "It's gone. It's ok now. You're ok." I carefully brushed her hair away from her face, trying to take a look at her. "You're safe. That thing can't get in here. Trust me, I've got the stuff that'll ward just about anything away." She glanced up at me, wide-eyed, then lunged forward, plastering herself to my chest, and started to cry quietly. Not the reaction I was hoping for, but better than some of the other ones, I guess. I glanced across the room from over her head, meeting Bob's eyes as he stepped through the wall. His eyes widened in surprise, making an "Oh, you're busy" face, and then nodded his head at the scene she was making. I frowned, scrunching my shoulders slightly in an upwards mini-shrugging motion, and cocked my head at an angle to point my chin at the wall behind him, our universal signal for him to get lost. He gave me a raised-eyebrow glare of "You better tell me what is going on the first chance you get" and then left.

Boy, so much could be said if people just shut up sometimes, am I right?

Anyways, the girl started to slowly grow quiet, so I took the chance to ease myself away from her, and tried to get another look at her in general. Long, pretty blond hair the rich golden color that was only found in royalty and honey fell around her face. Her eyes were certainly violet, the white around them standing out that much more from the intensity of their coloring, with the hue darkening as the iris bled into the pupil. She was thin, more so than normal, and with the way her clothes fell around her, I could see why Murphy would think she was a runaway.

She hiccupped, shyly looking up at me through ratty bangs.

"I'm so sorry..." She whispered. Using the heel of her hand, she wiped away the tears left on her face, and sat back on her heels. "I'm guessing you really didn't need that."

"What? You mean having some strange, yet beautiful girl throw herself at me?" I joked, getting a small wry smile in return. Boy, if Bob or Murphy heard me using that one, I'd get a set of eye rolls and a jab to the gut, courtesy of Murphy's elbow or fist. I stood, lending her a hand to steady herself as she stood as well, and pulled the chair from my desk for her to sit on. She sat, a grateful look on her face, and gazed around shyly. "That bruise looks like it's going to heal fine..." I mentioned, nodding at the red welt on her forehead where she struck the floor. She gingerly touched it, a note of surprise on her face. "Does it hurt? I could get you some ice..." She shrugged, then shook her head.

"No, it...it'll be alright." She spoke quietly, lowering her hand to her lap. "Thank you, though."

"Right." I nodded, then took a step back to lean against the side of the couch. "So, what was that thing?" I asked. "Did have anything to do with the wind you created yesterday in the alley?" Her head shot up to look at me, but instead of an expression of guilt or trying to hide guilt, she bore a look of deep confusion.

"What? I didn't do that...how could anyone do that?" She asked. "You can't create wind...it was just a weird draft or whatever...those things just happen..."

"Those sort of things just happen a lot around you?" I shot back, and then sort of regretted it. If she did cause the wind, then she might not be aware of it. Like Bob had said, the emerging of powers is confusing at first, denied sometimes as weird but random 'happenings'. I remembered when my powers started, all the light bulbs that would suddenly burn out around me or the weird way the wind would push things around when I was angry. It happens. Just not the way you reason it out. "I'm sorry...Look," I paused, running my hand awkwardly through the back of my hair. "What's your name?"

"Celeste." She muttered. _Great. Good Job, Harry,_ I told myself. _You scared her off before you could find out why she's even here. Must be a record._ I tried to smile reassuringly, but I'm not sure it even made it past friendly.

"Celeste. Ok. I'm Harry." I blurted, my manners finally catching up with my mouth. "Harry Dresden. And I want to help you in any way I can. But you got to let me know what's going on. You can't start lying to me, or leaving anything out that could be important." She didn't look my way, glancing out the storefront window instead. I turned and watched the last of the sun's light disappear beyond the cityscape line. Nightfall. "For now, why don't you catch up on some sleep?" I suggested. "You can stay here tonight, at least away from whatever's out there." For a moment, Celeste paused, thinking it over, then nodded.

"Thank you, Mr. Dresden." She said quietly with a small smile. I smiled back (the category of "reassuringly" finally made it into the smile department) and stood.

"Please, call me Harry." I replied with a grin. Suddenly, her stomach growled and she blushed crimson. "Hungry?" I asked, mock-innocently and she gave a small, embarrassed smile back. "Come on, let's get you something to eat."

I could not believe the state of my kitchen after those words were uttered.

As fast as I could make something, she's scarf it right now, pausing to breathe in between plates. Or maybe not. Maybe she just inhaled everything that didn't move fast enough when I blinked. Either way, it was a sight to behold. Every little thing Bob had ever said about my lack of cleaning abilities didn't hold a candle to this girl.

"You...you haven't had anything to eat in the last couple of days, have you?" I stated, more of a declaration than a question. She paused, looking up at me with a nearly embarrassed look in her eyes, and nodded. Gulping whatever was in her mouth (I think all I had left to make at that point was peanut butter sandwiches), she gasped out.

"Nearly a week. I've been running."

"From that thing. Celeste," I paused, pulling out a chair across from her and sat down. "Celeste, what was that thing?" She froze for a moment, then set the sandwich down onto the plate and laid her hands on the table.

"You felt it? Those hands that reach inside you and grip you heart with ice?" She asked, her voice barely louder than a whisper. I nodded, remembering that cold, dark feeling just before I had closed the door. "That was it. Don't know what, and I really don't want to find out, but that was it." I nodded after a moment and dropped the issue. Let her get a good meal tucked in, and a good nights rest, before I pressed it any further.

Finally sated, she sighed and rose to collect the scattered dishes. "Thank you so much, Dre----Harry." She smiled, catching herself in mid-sentence. "You've been really kind to me. You don't even know me, yet you've saved my life, taken me in for the night, and fed me."

"Well, hey, its the least I could do, really." I shrugged. Grabbing a rag from the counter, I start to dry and stack some of the plates "Actually, I can do one better. A warm bed." She gave a hesitated look then went back to washing the dished. I puzzled my brain for a moment, trying to decipher her expression.

Oh.

"I'll take the couch in the front of my apartment, of course, so you can get a good nights sleep." I continued after a beat. _Duh, Harry!_ I mentally kicked myself. _This girl has been running for a long time, and then you start to help her selflessly out of the blue? No wonder she's gonna be weary of the generosity!!_ She gave me a blushing smile and I knew I had hit the fear on its head. I returned the smile and stacked up the last of the dishes. "Anything I can get you?"

"Um..." She wrinkled her nose, (quite a cute gesture if I do say so myself) and blushed slightly again. "You wouldn't happen to have a shower available, would you?"

"Down the hall, on the left." I nodded with a grin. "It only runs cold water, just so you know, but it runs clean."

"Thanks."

"Uhmn...there's clean towels under the sink...Oh! Hey, if you see a large metal door, that's the wrong one!" I called after her, wishing I had warned her against the door to my lab before she left. I had replaced the lab door with a three-foot thick solid slab of metal after I had accidentally blown apart the original one with a potion-gone-wrong.

Live and learn.

After a few moments, I followed her down the hall. I waited and listened to hear the shower going before I pushed open the door to the lab. Cluttered shelves and strewn papers met my gaze, with each of the stone walls filled floor to ceiling with cabinets and shelves, all flooded with various bottles and boxes of things. A table sat like an island in the middle of the room, papers and objects littered across its surface, with a human skull decorated with runes perched atop of several books. As I shut the door behind me, the skull's eyes flickered to life, an orb of orange flame dancing in each socket.

"Ok, come on out Bob, its safe." I muttered, leaning on the table. As soon as I spoke, a burst of red-and-black smoke filtered out from the skull, drifting and swirling to form Bob's image.

"Where is the girl now, Harry?"

"In the shower. Now look," I started in before he could say anything at all, his expression the main drive of my actions. There was about a hundred snarky things he could say, and the way his eyes danced told me he was itching to say at least one or three of them. "She's in some sort of danger. There was something after her, and as far as I know, still is. I think she caused that wind Murphy was talking about, but if she did, she doesn't know it."

"Are you sure?" Bob asked, the tone of seriousness in his voice chased away anything he had previously wanted to tease.

"Yah, pretty much. If she knew she had some sort of power, then she would have used it by now against whatever that was. She's been running for weeks, Bob. There's no way she knows she has any power at all." Bob listened, nodding, and sighed.

"Mm...yes, I agree, Harry. But that still doesn't mean it was she who caused it."


End file.
